Gettin’ Down In A Small Town

I think I’ve told y’all a time or three how very much I love my community. When we aren’t busy painting things John Deere green on hot summer nights, or pulling awesome pranks on another, we are hosting a slew of events – all of which are named after a vegetable or farm animal. The 4th of July Potato Festival kicks off the festivities and is soon followed by the Quarterback Club Community Cookout and Cow Plop. Just when we are starting to get bored again, we end the summer with a bang (or a buck) with Mule Day.

What is Mule Day you ask? Well, I’d love to show you some personal photos but it was so crowded this year I couldn’t get anywhere near the arena. I’ve included a stock photo instead. My town has 800 citizens give or take; however, on Mule Day weekend there are anywhere from 12-15,000 people here – as in almost 20x our population.

(Photo courtesy of elcascabel.com)

The draw of Mule Day is a Mule Pull competition where teams from several states bring mule teams to see which ones can pull the most weight. They are hitched to slides stacked with cement blocks and weight is added until they can no longer pull. It’s really a painful thing to watch but don’t worry, I’m assured the screaming, snot-slingin‘ mules are having the time of their lives.

Here’s my Girl. She insisted on theme dressing. I don’t mind so much when the theme is Cowgirl versus Bratz Doll. She actually asked me this morning if I would pick out “some very tiny clothes” for her to wear to school. Umm, that would be a negative.

Riding the ponies in her non-Daisy Dukes.

Boy Number One. Oh my. He bought these glasses at one of the junk vendors and is convinced he’s Eric Estrada from CHiPs. I’m pretty sure the lenses in these things are recycled mirrors that hang in the corner of old gas stations and supermarkets.

Here’s Boy Two packin‘ the $5 heat he bought from the Asian arms dealer. You think I’m kidding. There was a guy there with two booths (I use the term booths loosely…he was actually selling them out of the back of his SUV) filled with bb guns, air soft rifles, and TASERS. Yes, you heard me right. For the low, low price of $15 you could purchase a personal electrocution device. I can’t think of a better thing to sell hundreds of young boys bent on a day of mischief.

Speaking of a day of mischief, I don’t have a picture of Number Three boy. He also bought one of the bb guns. Trouble is, he bought it from the Arms Dealer’s satellite location and it didn’t come with bb’s – even though it was the exact model Boy Two bought that included a package of ammo. Boy 3 asked the man to give him some bb’s and he was told to go away.

Mom to the rescue.

I went to the booth and showed the man both of the gun cases to prove that yes, one had bb’s and so should the other. He told me that his booth didn’t include the bb’s so I asked him to return our money. Who needs a gun with no bullets, right? In a very nice gesture, he not only gave us the small pack of bb’s that should have been included, but he gave us a very large container full. Nothing like a gun vendor who specializes in customer service.

We thanked the man for his generosity and I walked away pleased the kids had plenty of bb’s for their little toy guns.

And the fact I just typed that last sentence still baffles me.

I took the ammo from the boys because 8 year old boy + gun + unlimited bullets + large crowd = TROUBLE. What I didn’t know is that Boy Three snuck the ammo and got into a gun war with another boy. What I also didn’t know is that he shot a lady in the crowd WHO WAS NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT IN THE LEAST. Dear, sweet woman. I wasn’t there but please accept my humble apologies. The boy is grounded for life it if makes it sting any less.

In the meantime, The Girl and I found Luke’s cousins who show horses at Mule Day every year. In a strange twist, they were coming to this festival for years before Luke and I ever moved here. Anyway, The Girl looks forward to seeing her cousins Raven and Ramsey compete and to boot, gets a ride in their miniature horse wagon.

We were blissfully unaware of the gunfire taking place elsewhere in the park.

So now, summer is winding down and the season of rolling yards and Friday night football is upon us.

Have I mentioned I love it here?

P.S. Deedra just got her Mule Day pictures posted. Girlfriend captured the true flava of the day.

I’m so glad that you love your town! That makes life so much “easier”. I grew up in a small town with those kinds of festivals named after animals and food. It was a wonderful place to raise a family. I live in the “city” now – but wouldn’t trade growing up in a small town for the world!

I knew there was some connection I was feeling with you. :) I grew up in a small town as well Pop. 560 and we went to the next town Pop 800-900 for the Spud festival and parade each year. It was always special to get to be in the parade or on a float. This was done in October (Harvest Season) with a big BarBQ that people would stand in the cold in a line that would wrap around a couple of blocks.Our town was so little the only anual event it had was a crab feed dinner that dualed as a fund raiser for the PTA I think. I get teased about the “Spud Festival” I’m glad there are others that have them and enjoy them. Lynn

What FUN! I do love small towns. I grew up in Atlanta,so took some major adjustments. But now, prefer the closeness and love and community of the small town.One place we lived had a “sweet potato” festival… in the parade they threw out sweet potatoes…it was VERY important to watch and pay attention. Those boogers HURT!

Props to kid #1 for recycling! We should all do our part in saving the planet. :) You could have made that lady feel better about being shot if you gave her the gun and let her and boy #3 have a quickdraw contest. I have to also say that after your victory over the gun dealer, the dirty hotel owner, and the underwhelming vacation spot owner…you should consider running for office! I believe you now have more experience than Barak Obama…

Love the pics! I love the shades! I’m lovin that number 2 looks like a Mini Luke with that expression. We passed the Asian arms dealer kickin and screamin! The next time I go to the Dollar Store I’m talking to the Mayor about banning him for next year…lol

My pics are up….a bunch of them! …with music!

p.s…Sister Christi, you do need to blog! Also, you are soooo invited to our ladies banquet next month. You can sit at my table if you like! We’ll be the loud ones laughing from the table in the back!

one more thing! I asked these two guys if I could peek through and snap a few picks of the mule pull. While I was snapping I heard one of them say, “Oh that’s Kyle’s wife, she’s proabably gonna put pictures on her blog”…had no idea who they were, I just smiled and said…”I sure am!”

This story takes me back to the days of the annual Greased Pig & Calf Scramble at the National Peanut Festival in Dothan. It was a family tradition. I can almost taste the corn dogs from who else? The world-famous Corn Dog Man.

This was so funny and I knew it would be!! I cracked up over Jenny’s comment, she can teach them to shoot thru a purse except for the fact that boys don’t OR should not carry purses. The whole thing reminds me of Madea. (sp?)

I need to visit this small town of yours and I can’t believe how close you are to me!!!

Just a few months friend!!!!Love you,Patty

p.s. To your sister, please start a blog because your comment was as funny as Lisa’s post and having the two of you in bloggyville would be a riot!!

Just found your blog via comments on the LPblog.I, too, am a lovin the small town girl. While my husband went to seminary (moons ago), we lived in a tiny town (pop.651) called . . . wait for it, Godley. We were the only ministers livin on Godley Avenue in Godley, Texas. I miss the small town parades and the big hearted people.Thanks for the nostalgic moment. Oh, and btw, only thing worse than your kid hitting a stranger with a bb is your kid nicking the neighbor’s cat with an arrow.Trust me, I know.

This brings back fond memories of the Ducky Derby we attended every year in the Southern town I grew up in. And in the neighboring town, it was the Peanut Festival that was looked forward to every year. By the way, you ever been to a pig pickin’? You ain’t ate nothing yet, till you’ve had some of that good barbecue!!